


Legerdemain

by EasyNitesAngel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety, Family, Gen, Magic, TW Implications of Anxiety Attacks, TW Implications of Depression, TW Implications of Violence, Wizards, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7422013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyNitesAngel/pseuds/EasyNitesAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lukas is a wizard with a natural talent for Old Norse Magic. His friends, Arthur and Vladimir, recommend him to try ancient Latin spells for a bit to offer him a better understanding of their skills. He has taken advantage of every chance given to practice the new techniques of this magic—that is, until the tranquil peace of his home has suddenly turned into corruption. Latin spells were rarely forgiving when it came to mistakes, he knew of this. With the turmoil growing more dangerous as time passes, the lives of his family are in question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

> _"When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always..."_

Amidst the dark room, a pair of pale hands, illuminated a ghost-white color by the moonlight, raised upward like a conductor commencing an orchestra. The ancient spell-book lay open on the table under them, reassuring the instructions each time a pair of dark eyes worriedly glanced down at the faded letters. With a deep breath, a smooth voice sternly commanded, “ _Contra affectionem_ ," then he flinched slightly, cautious of the foreign word. 

Green smoke rolled from the hands, curling and twisting into its own pathway in the air. The jade cloud formed itself into a ball-shaped puff before the man whose eyes gazed wondrously at it. Then, it swirled into a snake and slithered in its new surroundings, seeping through the shelves of books and flying past the oddities of fallacy in the room. A soft yellow glow surrounded it, too dim for eyes from afar to notice it. 

The man, Lukas, followed its pathway with his emotionless gaze—but now showing a tint of interest—, as if he were the least entranced by his creation. He watched it glide over the table, lilt slightly at any obstacles before it, and seem to spread in size across the room. 

"How... interesting," he noted, taking a quick glance at the spell-book's information of the peculiar spell. It wasn't any spell he was normally accustomed to, might he admit. Arthur, a sorcerer and friend of his, lent the ancient book to him, suggesting him to try a new type of magic and stray from Old Norse for once. _Magus Senex_ , Lukas mentally repeated the strange word. It meant old magician; Latin-based magic, what Arthur and occasionally the ever-eccentric Vladimir used. They warned of the endless, confusing maze of rules Magus Senex magic had. Lukas found it such a delicately powerful language of its own: one miss of a spell's melodic beat or the wrong motion of the arms or hands could result in the most unfortunate destruction. He only heard of Arthur's caution and observed the way Vladimir's devious grin turned fully concentrated while working with more dangerous spells. 

This green fog, in particular, was no simple snake-like trail of smoke to be toyed with. As long as it wasn't left to spread too much or didn't learn the directions of a compass, it was promised to simply alter the emotions of its short range of area. Such spells like this would be taken to their advantage in times of trembling fear or raging hatred. But, the rumors of the misfortunate had been heard. 

In memory of the horrid reminder, Lukas gazed pensively at the smoke which was slowly turning into a beautiful color of a sunset at dusk. "Such a deceitful color," he dared to speak. If left to learn what the world offered for too long, this spell could easily turn against its main purpose. The old tales told if it lingered in its exploration, it could eventually suffocate the innocent and bring evil to conquer good. People taken by its distorted purpose were condemned to never be the same again. Light would become darkness, and darkness would become the devil, the book told. When the spell had snatched the heart of an innocent person, their being would slowly twist into malicious will. 

Lukas shuddered at the thought, then remembered what Arthur absentmindedly muttered under his breath that day. Mysterious, yet mistakably coincidental: ‘the false prophets’. 

The smoke was no longer a snake, he realized. It was growing into a cloud. Now, it was a breathtaking sapphire blue with flashes of a bright yellow—colors explaining fret and the slightest bit of betraying hesitance—, so misleadingly tempting. 

"Perhaps it's time for you to leave, little puff," he smoothly spoke, yet a deathly glare contradicted his nearly-sweet tone. His hands were raised again, forming a vaguely shaped circled in the space they enclosed together. " _Minui malum_.”

A plasmatic ball of electric sparks exploded in the closed circle. But, the cloud heard that slightest tinge of worry. Lukas slowly brought his hands farther away from each other, causing the sphere of lightning to expand. A gust of wind swirled around him, tussling his hair and then his breathing became unsteady. A voice, his own, whispered before the command: _Gods, let this work._ Then, " _Lumen de caelum_!”

The sphere unfurled into a bright flat mass, crackling and spitting yellow sparks as it glided to the puff of smoke. Lukas saw it now had taken a color of crimson—but not like the promising color of a rose; it was no longer pleasing to man's eye. He knew it was giving its warning. As the blanket of lightning approached the growing spell, it stopped its fluid, almost dream-like, movement. Hesitating, Lukas hoped not. But, the blanket—almost impossibly—ensnared the cloud with such swiftness, the magician had nearly missed it. An ear-splitting explosion ripped violently through the air, shaking the room. The gust of wind twirled and whipped around and around, snatching up pages and flipping open books and hurling bottles of potions in its path. Lukas braced himself, swaying slightly, but he had nearly toppled over.

He felt it. That small swirl of rage. Its ice-cold needles pricked his skin, prodding and trying his temptation first. He could feel it almost invade his senses and take his mind as its own. He knew well that this hatred was not his: such raw fear and fury was nothing the most sinful man could imagine comprehending. The bitter cold was overwhelming, but the fiery flames of hostility and cruelty were just as strong. 

Yet amongst this unpredictable discord of malevolence, Lukas could only get one simple thought, his own knowingly, despite the storm blinding everything within him into a blur. _This spell is more powerful than I thought,_ he heard his own words, his own voice in his mind. He knew it was his. Yet, the heaving pressure from the spell of light against twisted good crushed him, and everything before him had been simplified to nearly nothingness. He felt deaf to his consciousness, and blind to his sight. Hatred against justice.

The room shook violently as the mass of stringy light wrapped tightly around the cloud. It still adorned that repulsive red which brought so much loathing and fear, no man could ever look at it. A cry had helplessly yelled into the immense chaos, but it had been drained from the deafening uproar and left ignored. An eruption of scintillating light had appeared suddenly, and Lukas, long having closed his eyes shut, crumpled slightly at the explosion. 

Then, silence. 

Lukas found himself panting heavily, sweat falling from his forehead. He could hear his heartbeat pound violently against his chest. Eyes closing again, not creased in desperation to keep them shut, he gulped some air. His throat was unimaginably dry. An exhale escaped him, but the faint sound of a whimper made him cringe. His feet shuffled awkwardly beneath him, and he found himself standing awkwardly with the aid of the table's support. But, his knees were quick to buckle down, and he groaned in pain as he collapsed heftily to the floor. Luckily, yet unluckily all the same, his forearms barely caught grip of the table's edge and slammed hard against the wood. The resulting pain stung his arms, causing him to curse under his breath. Yet, he stood again. Using his palms to support his weight despite his trembling limbs, he lifted a hand to Arthur's spell-book, which astonishingly remained untouched. He placed a finger below the words of the _Contra affectionem’s_ information and it followed his gaze as he read. 

He cursed again at what the book offered, as nothing explained the proper spell to use against it and most suspiciously, its destruction it could cause. Slamming the bulky reference closed with dust flying everywhere, he turned to leave the room. Just as his hand had hovered right above the doorknob, however, he stopped himself from his need to leave. 

Something felt eerily out of place. 

"Oh, please..." he whined, turning around once again to come face-to-face to the same puff of smoke. It was noticeably weaker and back to its emerald green—not a breathtakingly a gorgeous color, as it dulled from such a weakened state. 

Impulsively, he shouted, " _Bli bort_!” A dark, swirling mass of space appeared and quickly engulfed the green snake, but then it fought back and the purple-black void had disappeared. But, the smoke had thinned to grey vapor; almost to nothingness. 

It spread all over the room, choking the man and causing him to cough violently. It seeped through the cracks of the wall and the space underneath the door, trying to escape. Lukas felt dizzy, lost in the murky, nonsensical depths of his mind. He couldn't breathe, his lungs were on fire. His mind slowly slipped into unconsciousness, as if he were drowning in water. As an invisible burden fell on his shoulders and back, he saw the room surrounding him turn into a vast space of pitch black nothingness. 

In a split second, it was gone. 

Lukas was standing again. The book lay open. He stared at it dumbfounded, knowing well he closed it mere seconds ago. The room was peacefully quiet, with the exception of the crickets humming sweetly outside. The white moonlight lit the room and everything was back in its tidy and proper place. It was exactly like it was before he had commanded the spell. 

He listened to his breaths, hearing the rise and fall slowing more and more from the fear of before. The room was empty of no other presence besides him. 

Yet, something crept up behind his back. The prickling sense of awaiting danger was just out of his sight. Before it could lay its cold hand on his shoulder, he closed his eyes and in a split second he was in his bedroom. Glancing at the single picture of his family on his nightstand, he hurried downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! First off, thank you so much for reading the start of this story! And, as some of you Latin-studying folks have very likely noticed, I don't take Latin at all. So, if you've noticed some mistakes, it would be greatly appreciated to help me out with correcting them because this language is unbelievably hard to research. Man, what is Latin doing? Anyway, the next chapter will be coming up soon enough, and in the mean time, I hope you've enjoyed this so far.


	2. Chapter 2

Lukas had seen that everyone was in their proper place at home. Emil, his distant younger brother, was curled up against the arm of the armchair as he approached the grand living room. Berwald, a silent and especially condescending Swedish friend of his, sat at the adjacent couch and quietly read the newspaper with that natural glare of his; Tino—who was in a relationship of sorts with the tall, glowering man—awkwardly cuddled up against him while sipping a cup of hot cocoa. Mathias was nowhere to be seen. That was good for now, he noted. 

Lukas' felt his heart almost sink, as if out of dreadful fear. Then, he caught his bizarre, yet inconspicuous reaction. It felt so natural, he could've missed it. What was he so frightened about?

Before entering the room, he straightened his shirt, took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his hair to place it in its usual position. He wasn't planning on explaining what happened earlier, for his family had absolutely no need to have yet another worry lingering in the back of their heads. As he walked in, he quickly snatched his novel from the table by the stairs and groped for the bookmark in its place. 

The three in the living room took absentminded notice of Lukas swiftly walking in and plopping on the rocking chair by the long sofa. Lukas saw Tino glance slightly in his direction and Berwald nod at his movement. Emil had peeked up from his phone for a moment. Between all of them, there was a comforting silence which promised all was normal. Lukas liked it that way, especially now. 

He opened the book to the page he left off, stealing a glance at the television facing the sofa. An old recording of Eurovision was on, which Tino appeared to be vaguely regarding. Lukas thought he was trying to get something off of his mind, hiding whatever was bothering him. He brought his attention to the book and began reading. Something to get his mind off of what had happened, too, at least. Whatever went on in his spell room... maybe he would ask Arthur about that later, at a better time. Yet, he knew there was much to worry about. There was no telling where the spell really was, he hated to admit. He heard well of its dangers, but this was beyond what he clearly imagined. And, to think, that stupid, impetuous action to rid of it with that last spell... it wasn't part of _Magus Senex_ , the _Bli Bort_ spell, it was Old Norse magic. At the time, he was also aware of the possibility turning into a horrible outcome. Why did he still do it? His teeth bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to almost taste a small drop of blood from spilling out. _Habits_ , he concluded. 

It took him awhile to remember the book in his hands was still there, wide open. Waiting. Something else was, too. He could feel it. Something, something, something... very foreign, impossible, cunningly deceiving. It was waiting for a good time, a good place to latch its freezing talons on unsuspecting prey...

It was still present. No, its disappearance had all been an illusion. It wouldn't be gone unless...

" _Ut Og Stjæle Hester_ ( _Out Stealing Horses_ [1]) again?" 

Lukas stared at him blankly, then nodded. "Interesting book," he responded evenly, voice sounding silvery as ever. "You should try finishing it." 

Emil presented that skepticism openly, as if he sensed something was off with his brother. However, he weakly attempted to hide it. "Well, I'm almost done, but... you... you just read it not too long ago."

Lukas shrugged. "It's been over a month. Not too short."

Emil didn't respond. Instead, he went back to scrolling through whatever on his phone, but stole a suspicious raised brow at Lukas. Something wasn't right, he thought. What seemed to be bothering such an equable brother of his? They both didn't notice the inconspicuous glance Berwald had taken to look at Lukas, his head still angled down at the paper. He sensed the same. Everything seemed to be on Lukas' mind. He and Emil both didn't know what it could have possibly been. 

An awkward tension had silently grown between them afterward, which was quickly shattered by a rambunctious Dane strutting in. A silly smile adorned his bright features and his eyes glittered with a new mischievousness in them. An worn, atrocious cloak floated off of his back as he sauntered with his goofy pride into the room. His own presence seemed to have made the room very loud all of a sudden, and he quickly lightened up even more upon seeing Lukas. 

"Yo, Norge!" he laughed while walking to the man who was making it clear he was trying to ignore him. He stood behind the rocking chair and stooped down to hug Lukas, who stiffened slightly, from behind. "Look at this thing I found in my chest upstairs! Gosh, do you remember how we'd always play Vikings and all when we were, like, five? Broski, it's the cloak! Looklooklook! Isn't this crazy or—hey, wait a sec. Is that...?" Mathias lifted the book out Lukas' grip and closed it slightly to see the cover, mindful to mark the page. Lukas, much to his exasperation, cried out in annoyance and reached for it. Mathias gently swatted the protesting friend's hands away and giggled. " _Ut Og Stjæle Hester_? _Bror_ (brother), again? How many times have you gone through this thing, like, twenty times these past three months? Maybe less than that. But, still—"

Lukas had finally caught the novel and tugged it back down firmly. "Yes, now, can you please give me my book back?"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Mathias gently placed it on the Norwegian's lap, patted it in a humorous manner, and ruffled his light blonde hair. Lukas scoffed at the action. "So, how was magic? Did you practice that... uh, what's it called again? …Maggots shave necks?"

“ _Magus Senex_ ," he corrected, picking the novel up from his lap and lightly brushing it off. He went back to the page he was on, growling lowly at the accidental crease caused by none other than the giant dork-wad behind him. "You say it mah-goose seh-nex."

"Okay, okay, prissy pants! Muh-goose say-nex, it is! Is that Latin or something? It sounds like muh goose needs a clay-nex! Ha, get it? 'Cause, instead of Kleenex®..."

Lukas cringed at the Dane's horrid pronunciation, but then again, he knew he meant well. "It means old magician, ya dumb Dane," he reached his hand up to flick Mathias' chin. "Now, may I read?"

"Come oooon! You've read that book so many times, ya practically could rewrite the entire story word-for-word on paper by hand. In fact, you probably won't even be reading it now, so why try this time?" he paused for a moment as if he were trying to remember something else he was going to say. Lukas knew he was hesitating with something, however. Then, "But, really, how was it? Magic, I mean.”

Mathias noticed he caught him off-guard for a split second, despite the Norwegian's smooth act to seem composed as usual. "It was fine," he answered, trying to ignore the Dane for the time-being. If there was anyone who could easily look through his emotionless aura, it was Mathias. Mostly, he observed, he used it to his advantage which he knew Lukas wasn't accustomed to. Lukas was too lucky that his intentions were never harmful, but that didn't stop Mathias from prodding around all the time. So, of course he would see this response as a blatant lie. 

Lukas quietly snorted as Mathias predictably scoffed, not sounding snappish. "Pffft. C’mon, Norge, how many times have I told you this?" he said in a patient, yet worn tone of voice like he had said the phrase countless times before. Lukas knew exactly where he was getting at. Getting past him when one was feeling any sort of negative emotion—even with the slightest tinge of it—was practically impossible. Mathias was inhumanly observant of his family's emotions. Lukas heard his footsteps walk around the chair and he plopped down on its matching footrest, half-facing the Norwegian and half-facing the couch where Tino and Berwald sat. His voice at suddenly a softened tone, "Look, we're family. We don't have to keep everything secret from each other, you know that," he frowned at the opened book, and took it from Lukas' possession. Lukas didn't protest in the slightest, to his astonishment. "And you know how troubling it gets when you don't tell us somethin's botherin' ya."

Lukas had been looking down to the bottom left at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Of course he was caught by everyone. If Mathias noticed, then it had to be true. Gazing to the right where the living room's other entryway led to a long hall, he muttered, "Just working on Latin spells is all. It gets stressful."

Mathias placed a gentle hand on his; promising, yet with forbearance. "C'mon, that's not it. I know when something's on your mind. When you're lookin' like that, it means something's up. Just tell me about it, okay? Yer troubles are my troubles."

The Norwegian gazed at his brother who was watching him intently, as if silently asking for something. Help. No, why would it be? Why would his brother offer help? He didn’t need help from his brother. There was nothing his family could do, besides that. They were perhaps far better off not knowing. But, his eyes sailed to Tino... The thought occurred to him suddenly. 

How long had he been sitting there like that?

"I... I-It was..." he nervously began. Really, had Tino been just blankly staring at the TV like that for awhile? How on earth had Berwald not noticed? "It was a spell. Nothing too much to worry about. Just some mistake."

Mathias saw him staring off just above his own head; at the wall, possibly. He squeezed his friend’s hand, bringing Lukas' attention to him. "A mistake?" he looked at his friend intensely for an answer. There was more—much more. "That's it?" a silent nod for an answer. He knew he wouldn't get much from Lukas at this point. Perhaps later, he would say something eventually. Mathias knew whatever he was hiding was important this time, and it could possibly affect everyone in this room. He wasn't being selfish, just guarding a worry from overcoming his family. From the way he was acting, this worry pulling at his mind would require help. _Maybe he’ll speak up when he feels a bit less anxious_ , he thought.

The Norwegian saw his friend surrender. At least, he would leave the subject alone for awhile, but not for long. He had to tell them of what horrible accident he'd caused. Yet, looking back on that... the blue-yellow smoke had given him worry. Then, the blinding light, ear-splitting explosions had all come back quickly, too much all at once. Remembering another problem, he stared at Tino again. 

The Dane cocked a brow at Lukas, wondering what he could've possibly been staring intently at for several moments. Turning around, he only saw just Tino and Berwald sitting together, but... something very, yet discreetly off about Tino. Before thinking, he found himself hesitantly calling to him, "Uh... Tino? Are you okay?"

Tino visibly flinched, as if he had been snatched out of a nightmare that endlessly pulled him down deeper into its depths of nothingness. To him, it seemed like the whole world had unfurled into existence before his eyes when he blinked, appearing utterly stupefied. But, for a split second, Lukas caught a raging expression from him. From the side of his face, he saw the man's mouth had twisted into a frightening sneer and his brows furrowed, but it disappeared like nothing ever happened. Then, he glanced blankly around the room, like he were lost in an endless maze. Then, he finally spoke as if he discovered he had a voice, "U-Uh... hm?" his head whirled to Mathias, eyes seeming kind and lively as ever. 

Mathias' expression faltered. Tino looked... normal, yet bizarre. Nevertheless, he attempted to smile brightly at him. "Oh! Ha, I asked if you were okay over there. You just looked like something was, uh, really bothering ya."

Tino frowned, but it was coldly directed to his friend speaking to him. With an almost bitter tone, he answered, "No, of course not. I'm alright." 

The room had suddenly grown still, and a freezing chill had crawled in with a most strange feeling. Like spiders made their way through the cracks of the doors and windows and raced up their backs. The breath of an enemy against the nape of their neck, aiming a knife just behind them. Its blade softly scraped against their skin, carving nonsensical shapes and figures just to tease their fright. It was waiting, observing. It raised its disembodied, formless hands up far above their hands, then just as as it came down with a mighty force, the creeping sensation disappeared. 

Tino finally came to, finding himself gasping for air. He felt sopping wet everywhere, like he had fallen into a frozen lake and barely made it back on its bank. Searching for Mathias in the room he asked, "Sorry, what? I couldn't hear you the first time." the sweet air of his had returned. His eyes sailed to his right, and he noticed he had been leaning right against Berwald. Smiling kindly, he chirped, "Oh, hey, ‘Sve! Didn't see you there. Would you like me to move over a bit? I'm kind of right up into your space, aren't I?"

Berwald stared dumbly at him, a tinge of confusion almost clearly showing through his stoic features. He grunted in response, adding, "Hm. It's fine. Y’don't have to move."

“Alright, that's perfectly fine by me.” he glanced over the tall man, spotting the neglecting mug of hot chocolate sitting alone on the couch's side table. Giving a sheepish grin to Berwald, he asked, "Do you mind reaching over to get that? It's a little far from here..." Berwald quickly reached over to retrieve the mug and give it to him, still keeping his focus on the newspaper. He nodded at his gratitude. Tino, taking a sip from his drink, cringed and lightly shook his head. "Ugh, it's cold! I thought I had it sitting there for not that long." He remembered Mathias was speaking to him and brought his utmost attention to him. "Sorry, Mathias. What were you asking?"

Tino pondered at his strangely confused ambiance. But, a bright smile graced Mathias' features. "Well, I was just asking what was up. Uh, is something bothering ya?" the Dane scratched the back of his neck. 

Now it was his turn to be confused. A suspicious gaze was quick to replace his nearly saccharine atmosphere as he heard the question. "Hm? Well, no, not really, I guess. I’m doing well, thanks for asking,” a habitual giggle escaped him. Yet, as he pondered at the thought, he had to ask himself again. Mathias was noticeably growing more concerned, showing questioning disbelief. Sighing, he hesitantly decided to push the thought away. Perhaps he could worry about it another time. 

Lukas caught Emil staring at him with an almost interrogative glance, as if he had been yearning to ask and tell him much. It had been too quick to be hidden from him as he looked down at his cellphone. 

It had grown eerily silent again. The predator was gone, but the fear kept close, tainting their hearts and the peaceful air of the home. Everyone, in the back of their very minds, were knowing of how strangely Lukas was acting, but didn't dare to question him. Only time would be willing to haunt the unfortunate man.

Lukas almost jolted upon hearing Mathias sigh. The cheery Dane seemed so peculiarly serious to him, now: distressed. His smile told a promise of happiness as always, but as his bright blue eyes looked into Lukas', he noticed a trace of pleading. What did they beg for?

"Well, 'Luke..." he finally said, stepping over to the Norwegian. The cloak was gently placed on his lap. "Keep it, bro. It's been crammed away elsewhere for so long, ya know? Thought we should keep something kinda valuable closer to ourselves."

He knew what he was hiding, he always did. But, something desperately told him to look just at that sweet, everlasting smile—avoid those eyes which beseeched silently for help. It was sometimes better to immerse oneself in bliss to ignore what was true. The smile was such an entrancing yellow, swirling and warm in the soft white of tranquility. With it was the occasional color of blue, calm and welcoming. 

It was such a deceitful color. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsies! Coming soon to theaters near you: _Some Crazy-Ass Bullshit_ , 2016. 
> 
> 1 _Ut Og Stjaele Hester_ [return to text]: _Out Stealing Horses_ is a novel written by Norwegian novelist Per Petterson. More quick info can be found [here](http://www.enotes.com/topics/out-stealing-horses). (If you're on a laptop, you just need to watch an ad real quick and then it'll let you read.)


	3. Chapter 3

It was a suspiciously gloomy day outside, as Lukas noted. That, or he was accustomed to visiting the local café on warm, bright afternoons. He hadn’t had his mind on the weather for the past few days, and to have a different thought right now seemed almost pleasant, yet betraying to him. The idea of the spell potentially haunting his family plagued him for awhile, especially after remembering what happened to Tino. The others were growing more suspicious of the Norwegian’s way of acting, as well. Berwald and Emil stole strange glances at him and then each other when the house was quiet. Yet, Tino was oblivious to it all, surprisingly. Of course, not a word of what happened had slipped out since then, but his younger brother and friend made it quite obvious they were cynical of Lukas’ peculiar behavior—in spite of their attempts to seem normal. However, Mathias, on the other hand...

Sipping his coffee, he kept his concentration on the book before him. Yet, as his eyes flew over the dark text and calculated each word, his mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on much else for awhile. He had to wonder if he really should distract himself with other matters. There was a possible problem that he had caused, after all; which could eventually overcome everyone he cared for. Tino had proved it may still be alive, yet weak. Helplessly crawling around, looking for a source to live off of.

What did it live off of? Lukas asked himself. Unfortunately, he knew the answer, but that wasn’t the question. He couldn’t bring himself up to think of it, yet he had.

_Who did it live off of?_

A nauseating feeling overcame him, then the confusing vertigo of a trance that snatched the book out his grasp and dropped it to the floor. He leaned on the side of the chair’s arm to pick it back up. His hand felt limp, feeling cold and unable to move; the book fell to the ground again. He could feel the bitter surge of panic rush through his veins and wrap itself around his back like a coat. It almost tickled his arms as they prickled its nerves useless. Sighing frustratedly, he left it there.

His eyes still curiously glanced down at it. Which book did he take with him? His thoughts had been so immersed into such drowning worry he hadn’t paid attention to what story he brought out with him. The front part of the cover was facing the ground, not allowing its title to be shown. What did it matter?

He hadn't noticed the man who sat at the adjacent chair by his table until a greeting was heard.

"Good afternoon, Lukas. Sorry for arriving so terribly late."

Lukas nodded at him, noticing it was Arthur. “Oh… It's alright.”

He could sense the Brit glancing curiously at him, capturing that hidden sensation of fear for a split second until it was snatched away. Of course, the man was mindful that his Norwegian friend had called to meet with him for a particular reason. He noted how vague and quiet Lukas’ words were when he invited him for lunch. Arthur figured Lukas would very likely have some questions on _Magus Senex_ : hopefully no mentioning of a terrible accident that had occurred. Latin spells were very seldom forgiving when it came to mistakes. “So, how are your Latin spells coming along? I assume that’s what you called me over for, isn’t that right?” he inquired, trying to keep the mood as uplifting as possible. Yet, he could feel the anxious presence Lukas bore, as if it were another person sitting with them.

Lukas sucked in a breath of cold air, looking at Arthur. He responded hesitantly, “Um, yes. They’ve been going well…”

It was clear there was more, as Arthur perceived it—and he knew it wasn’t safe to withdraw questions when learning magic of any sort. Yet, he decided to guide Lukas to his explanation of what happened. “Well, that’s good. I hope you’re enjoying them so far as much as Old Norse.” 

“Hm. It’s… very different. It focuses on humans a lot.”

“Yes, it does. As a matter of fact, I’ve noticed that Old Norse is centered more around natural phenomena; it conjures many images of creatures as well. And, there are plenty of navigational spells to go around.”

“The traveling spells were used mostly for the Vikings,” he paused, reveling in the short distraction from worry. “ _Magus Senex_ has a lot of spells having to do with human nature.”

Arthur nodded in response. “They’ve been used to their advantage because of that,” his voice halted its words for a second, a bit hesitant to continue. Before resuming, he sharply cleared his throat. “Um, speaking of, what types of spells did you work on? I could give you some more tips, if you’d like—not that I believe you’re not doing well, but it is a tricky magic type.”

The Brit watched Lukas fidget uncomfortably, causing him to quickly conclude that he had tried out some of the more dangerous spells. The man always found excessive cautiousness boring, despite being a bit prudent himself. “I practiced some of those _Inter lineam_ spells. I worked on a few counter and memory spells, too, but didn’t try the null spells,” a shaky sigh escaped his lips, despite trying appear calm. “And, there was one…”

Raising his brow curiously, Arthur asked, “…One what?”

Lukas’ dark eyes broke contact with Arthur’s, nervously staring at the street; though their image brought the memory to his mind. The green snake had appeared in its demanding image before him, slithering and gliding through the air. “I decided to try a more powerful spell. I-It was… the _Contra affectionem_ one…”

A sickening sensation of fear overwhelmed Arthur, twisting his stomach into a tight knot and grasping a firm hold on his heart, interrupting its rhythmic beat. He had never felt so suddenly nervous before. “ _Contra affectionem_?” he managed to choke out incredulously. Quickly, he pressed inquiringly, “What happened? Did anything terrible go wrong?”

The same fear invaded Lukas' senses now. “I placed a counter spell on it— _Minui malum_. But… it didn’t go away,” he took in an unsteady breath to continue. “I used an Old Norse counter against it. There’s not much I remember, but Tino was acting strange not long after.”

Under his breath, Arthur muttered: _Oh no, this isn’t good_. He stayed silent for a moment, bringing all the more anxiety to Lukas. To their great misfortune, he didn’t know much of the spell. He had tried it once, but was quick to make it disappear in fear of the destruction it could easily cause. Only through teachings did he learn of how deceiving the spell truly was. ‘ _Minui malum_ ’ was a counter spell used to nullify more powerful magic so it was no longer a significant threat in the world. Once the spell left, its lingering effects would weaken and mingle with other objects, never quite completely useless and always present. “Wait,” he said, the word halting all the rushing thoughts in their heads. “You may have used the wrong counter."

“What?” the question fell right of Lukas’ mouth, further rendering him to speechlessness, but some relief stayed close by him.

“I don’t think that was the right spell, it was possibly too weak to make it entirely disappear. There _might_ be a way to fix your problem, but I’m a little iffy on the idea…”

Lukas gazed at him, desperate for the solution. It didn’t matter to him if it would cause little danger, as ‘ _Contra affectionem_ ’ was the face of danger itself.

“Hm. Tell you what, though. I’ll say it’s better we look at the newer spells of _Magus Senex_. There might be some good counters you can try—with some practicing beforehand, of course.”

A raised brow graced the Norwegian’s features. “Newer spells?” he echoed, seeming unsure of where Arthur was going with his thoughts.

“Well, I never thought you were going to need to know, but there have been some newer spells that were added to _Magus Senex_ eons ago. Don’t know why we bother calling them new spells, they’re so bloody ancient like the ones before them. Nevertheless, they were added to modify the original ones and are a bit more advanced to use. There’s bound to be a fitting counter for _Contra affectionem_ ,”he scratched the back of his neck before adding, "But... there's a catch to all of this. Some incredibly talented wizards have managed to find ways to summon those kinds of spells, and it takes a lot to discover new ways to order magic around, as you know. The thing is, it will demand a lot out of you. But, don't worry, Vladimir and I are always willing to help in any way. We've been working them as well, lucky for you."

A relieved sigh eased out of Lukas, bringing down the heavy burden of fear and worry for his whole family off of his chest. “…Thank you,” he breathed out. But, he didn't voice out the thought that had suddenly slipped into his mind, that he didn't deserve help for what he had caused. 

Arthur gave him a kind smile, shaking his head. “Well, it's no problem at all, chap. Now then, since that should be out of the way, we should go in and buy lunch.” he stood up from his chair, straightening his folded button-up shirt and pushing the chair back in the table. He was aware that Lukas may or may not be willing to actually eat, despite inviting him for lunch.

With an concurring nod, Lukas got up and pulled out his wallet while following his friend into the busy, yet cozy café. After ordering and receiving their meals—Lukas having his favorite black coffee in hand, they headed back to the same table outside the patio and sat back down. There was a lighter air between them, and Arthur kept a more lively chat with Lukas to distract his worries. He looked terribly distressed right when he first saw him earlier, as if the spell’s mishap had tormented him every second since it had happened. They still kept on the subject on friendly, idle matters while eating. Once they had finished, Arthur offered to throw away their leftovers and plates and sat back down to converse with his friend for a few moments longer. It had been awhile since they had last met, he figured, and he felt his friend needed to stay content for the time-being and clear his mind. 

“Oh, yes, how is your younger brother?” Arthur asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Hm, Emil? He’s… he seems to be doing fine.” he answered, bringing a finger to brush a strand of hair from his face. The thought of his brother’s well-being lingered in his head for a second. He had been acting rather strange lately…

“That’s good. Well, I actually ran into him awhile ago when I was out. He’s grown quite a lot since the last time I’ve seen him, I’ll say.”

Lukas paused his thoughts for a moment, trying to recall when his brother was last out for whatever reason. “…When was this?” he evenly asked.

“It might have been the Sunday before the last, if I remember correctly. He mentioned something about looking for his phone he lost at my house. He thought Peter accidentally kept it in his possession when he looked after him the day before.”

The Norwegian nodded, remembering that day—Emil was a terrible mess then. To him, it was surprising he even let Peter touch his cellphone. Then again, that child had long mastered the art of persisting his wants, unlike any other. “How is… Mrs. Fairy?” he quietly asked, becoming more comfortable with himself.

Arthur chuckled at the question. He remembered Mrs. Fairy, his flying mint bunny companion, had managed to bring the two together as good friends—as did Lukas’ troll. It was astonishing for him to know there were others besides himself and Vladimir who were able to see creatures of fantasy. “She’s doing well, actually—as are my other… special friends. How about your, shall we say, green acquaintance?”

“Mm, he’s quiet as usual. Never really likes talking much.”

They conversed for awhile longer until Arthur glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. “Blimey. Forgive me, Lukas, but I’ll have to get going just about now. One of my brothers is arriving for the week, and I can’t trust him alone at my house. If you need any help, you’re always welcome to pop by,” he got up and gathered his coat, putting it on. Waving farewell, he said, “Take care, chap!”

Just as he began walking a short distance from the café, Lukas called out to him, almost sounding urgent, desperate. Arthur turned around, eyebrow raised. “Hm? Is something the matter?” His apparent worry showed through his features. The ominous feeling of terror was slowly beginning to creep back in, as if it were only hiding all along.

As his eyes wandered about and his hands were mindlessly wringing and twisting themselves, Lukas’ voice was lowered, words muttered and nonsensical. His gaze ran anywhere, as if trying to escape to no avail, because his mind had fallen into a trap and everywhere he looked there was no way out. There was no hope. He was all done for and his family would suffer because of what he had done.

Arthur could feel his heart sink as he stepped closer to his friend. His calm composure had suddenly disappeared. As he felt a rush of anxiety creep into Lukas’ mind, he calmly encouraged, “What’s wrong, Lukas?”

Lukas brought a hand to wipe across his face, as if trying to clear his thoughts. _The spell’s really gotten to him,_ Arthur mentally noted. _If this remains, he won’t be safe._ He had never seen him so distressed before, for he wasn’t one to easily give in to fear.

“Was-was it a bad idea for me to… summon the spell?”

Arthur kept silent, only able to shake his head after choosing an answer. His voice suddenly quiet, he placed a heartened hand on Lukas’ shoulder, “Well, no. We’re magic users, we’re curious and we’re supposed to experiment to learn more,” he answered slowly in attempt to calm him. He stopped himself for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. “Lukas, you can’t regret what you’ve done if it’s causing trouble. The only thing you can do is to save yourself and whatever you hold most dear.”

Then, the dreadful trepidation had left Lukas. It tore his chest apart, ripping his sanity to shreds. His dark eyes looked defeated, left with emptiness glazing over them. He glanced blankly at Arthur, as if to gesture polite gratitude. “…Goodbye, Arthur,” he replied, remembering the book he had dropped on the ground hours ago was still waiting to be picked back up. As he retrieved it, he stood from his chair and looked at the cover. Sighing exasperatedly, he took his leave and began walking back home.

 _Maybe I should let Emil keep this book for awhile_ , he thought, which was sudden from the numb stillness in his head. The dark, dreary sky and two horses on the front cover didn’t need to tell him its title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Arthur's here! Sorry about his dialogue, I don't know him very well. But, besides that, thank you for reading, and I hope you have been enjoying this!


	4. Chapter 4

Emil cursed in annoyance upon opening the refrigerator to retrieve his drink, discovering it had miraculously vanished. Huffing, he called out in the silent home so the others could hear, “Has anyone accidentally taken my Yoggi®[1]?”

After waiting a few moments for no answer, he rolled his eyes and looked around the kitchen. No sign of any drink, but the room looked a lot cleaner than usual—much to his astonishment. _Who came in and cleaned up everything in here?_ he thought, raising a curious brow. Lukas was out, and Mathias was practically a walking tornado himself. He looked over his shoulder to see Tino walk in, smiling in greeting. 

“I think ‘Ber threw it out a few hours ago when he was organizing the kitchen for you guys. I can run to the store to get some more, if you’d like,” he offered, pulling a coffee mug from a cabinet behind Emil. He opened the pantry door to search for a bag of coffee beans. Stealing a glance at the teenager while doing so, he chuckled, “Goodness, you really need to brush out your bedhead, silly.” He reached out his hand to ruffle Emil’s hair.

Jumping slightly at the sudden action with his face flushing in response, Emil turned his attention to the kind man. “Oh, it’s okay,” he shrugged, closing the refrigerator door and awkwardly stepping past him. “I think there are actually a few more left in the other fridge in the garage.” he stopped in his tracks when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, his heart had dropped to his stomach as he stiffened slightly once he felt the freezing touch.

He turned his head towards him, whose face had appeared serious—almost grave with concern. “Hey, ‘Em,” he muttered, the words breathy and quiet.

“…Hm?” he responded with hesitance. Tino had never seemed so solemn before—the bright air he always carried with him was gone.

“We need to talk—well, all of us do.”

Emil glanced nervously around the room, knowing what he was referring to. Why had he been acting so oblivious to it all until now? Despite himself, he asked cluelessly, “About what?”

Taking in a deep breath, Tino answered, “About Lukas. He’s been… He’s not been himself lately.”

Silence was given as a response. The teenager swallowed, though his mouth felt dry.

“You all must have noticed by now, too. Is there any reason why none of you are doing anything about it?”

His gaze kept concentrated of the light blue mug Tino held. “Um, well, it’s—”

“Oh,” a deep voice interrupted Emil, causing the two to look in its general direction. They hadn’t noticed Berwald walk in until now. As he changed glances between them, he saw Tino open his mouth to ask something, but started, “Did-Did I j’st—”

“Um, no, actually. I was about to ask where Mathias is,” Tino said, letting his hand fall from Emil’s shoulder. He turned to open the coffee machine and started to make a cup for himself, asking if they wanted any.

Berwald hummed inquiringly, showing his confusion of how serious Tino was acting. “He should be in the workshop. What’s happening?”

“Well, I’d like to talk to you three about Lukas, is all. I just asked Emil about why you haven’t seen his change in behavior.”

The tall man nodded, stealing a look from Emil who subtly shrugged. Walking to the workshop room, he called for Mathias’ name. They both came into the kitchen shortly afterwards, Mathias following right behind him and talking along the way.

“Hey, ‘Berdie, I was about to ask something about making that—” Mathias abruptly paused, nervously looking at the others gathered in the kitchen. Letting out an uneasy laugh to break the tense atmosphere, he asked, “Woah, what’s up?”

Tino leaned against the kitchen counter, facing Mathias and Emil while Berwald stood by his side. “I think we all should talk about Lukas,” he said, letting out a sigh, “he’s acting very stressed out for some reason, and I’m worried for him.”

Mathias hopped on to the island at his side, shaking his head. “Yeah, I talked to him awhile ago about that. He doesn’t want to elaborate on it much, is the problem.”

Whilst pouring the hot drink into his mug, Tino asked, “Hm… Do you think you know what he’s been so worried about?”

“Well, you know he’s a wizard, right?”

“Yeah,” Tino nodded affirmatively as if he had been asked the question many times, sipping the coffee, “not too many of them out there.”

“He said he was practicing his _Magus Senex_ magic-stuff—which I’m guessing is some pretty hardcore kinda magic, but he mentioned no more than that,” he gazed around the room, as if he were looking for something. “Hey, where’s that book he keeps reading?”

“I’ve got it. Found it on my side table this morning,” Emil answered, resting his elbows on the island’s cool surface. “Do you need it, or something?”

“Oh, well, if you have it, then nah,” he waved his hand, then continued, “he keeps reading that thing, it’s getting weird.”

“He’s probably j’st trying t’get the worries off his mind,” Berwald added.

“Well, yeah… But, I wish he could tell us what’s up with him, y’know? There’s no good not telling yer problems, and he knows that.”

“Mathias, I’d hate to tell you this, but you sorta do the exact same thing he does,” Emil pointed out, a touch of sarcasm to his tone.

The Dane sighed, scratching his neck, “Yeah… But, you guys are my family. I don’t want you all frettin’ over me like that. Besides, Lukas has gone through his fair share of bad times and the poor guy was suffering and I didn’t even…” he sniffled, running a hand through his hair and exhaling deeply while shaking his head. A curse slipped under his breath. “God, I’m so terrible… Dammit, the man’s went through enough as it is…”

“Hm. Don’t be so hard on ‘yerself. Lukas doesn’t want us to worry,” Berwald commented, sounding brusque, yet earnestly sincere.

Tino agreed with a firm nod. “‘Ber’s right. Mathias, if Lukas is having a hard time telling us something, we’re just going to have to wait, I guess. He’ll have to come out and say what’s wrong at some point, right?”

“Yeah, in this case, he might. He doesn’t say much about his magic business, though.”

“That’s true. I wonder if he’s been talking to any of his friends for help…”

“Actually, I think he was talking to Mr. Kirkland yesterday,” remarked Emil, recalling the early afternoon when his brother was talking on the phone using a hushed voice. “Had a hard time hearing him, though. I wonder where he is now.”

Mathias face-palmed himself. “Ohhh, yeah… I remember when he said he was going out to lunch with Arthur. But, he’s running some short errands right now, I think.”

“Referencing,” Emil mumbled, accidentally letting the mental word slip off of his tongue.

“What?” Mathias and Tino inquired simultaneously, the Dane turning towards Emil.  


Emil shook his head in response, giving a shrug. Mathias returned the gesture with a raised brow, but turned back to Berwald and Tino.

It was quiet between them, the air holding so many questions amongst them all with hesitance suspending them. They were afraid to wonder, afraid to know the answers. All eyes fell on Tino when the three heard him loudly suck in a breath.

He glimpsed at each of their faces just before dubiously interrogating, “Why are all of you acting like this?” his tone wasn’t harsh, but hurt. “Like you don’t know anything about what’s wrong with him?” he was quick to refrain about adding an accusation of them not caring—of course they did. But, something wanted to convince him they didn’t.

More silence. Mathias was the first to speak. “We… we want to assure him we’re doing fine. We’re worried for Lukas—there’s no doubt about that,” he weakly smiled before continuing, “We want to somehow let him know that whatever’s botherin’ him is just an illusion.”

“What about me? You’re all treating me almost like him. Did I miss something?” he impulsively pressed, but took a deep breath afterward while closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t about me. I just… this is all getting very scary and we need to get through this as a family if we’re going anywhere.”

Nervous glances were exchanged between the three, the unsettling quiet ensuing once again. The Swede could feel Tino’s burden of concentration falling on him, however. His partner awaited another answer, almost desperately.

“Something happened to you a few days ago,” Berwald answered monotonously, a vague trace of fear behind his voice. “S’hard to explain.”

Before Tino could coax out a further explanation from him, Mathias added, “We’re thinkin’ it might have to do with whatever Lukas summoned during his whole magic practice. You don’t remember what happened, but you were actin’ kinda strange.” Biting his lip and squinting at the memory, he continued: “You were sittin’ by ‘Ber, watching the T.V. Lukas seemed to notice it first, how you were kinda… spaced out…” though his words were delivered slowly as he described everything, they wrapped themselves around everyone’s backs—almost crushing their sides inward. Savoring fear; savoring destruction. A part of Mathias made him feel unsure of telling that one moment of what had happened: the inexplicable feeling of dread that he had never felt before. How it loomed over everyone in the room and had just disappeared so quickly. He remembered the feeling of relief suddenly overflowing everyone’s hearts following right after; it was like air returning to their breath after a tight rope released its tight grip on their necks.

He felt that same feeling right now, astoundingly. That growing nervousness against his back had vanished: gone. His eyes observed Tino’s and Berwald’s expressions, who both contained that almost lost, yet content countenance upon them. Just as he let out a sigh, he realized he was no longer talking.

“…Oh!” he sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “Um, sorry, that was weird. I was just thinking about something really hard in the middle of explaining. Uh, where was I?”

Tino shook his head before answering, “It’s alright, you finished the story. Were you going to say something else, or…?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s kinda hard t—” he stopped, realizing that Emil had seemingly just appeared sitting beside him with a small of bottle of yoghurt juice in hand. “Where did you get that?”

Emil gulped some of the drink down before bluntly answering, “In the garage.”

Mathias raised a brow. “…When?”

“Just a few seconds ago when you were talking about Tino. I told you guys I was getting some,” he took another sip between speaking, “Lukas has been out for awhile.”

The Dane shook off the thought of not remembering when Emil had gone to get the drink, or even ask for that matter. Perhaps he didn’t hear him when he was thinking. “Yeah, he should be here anytime, now. Wonder what’s keepin’ him,” he remarked, but right as he finished his statement the sound of the front door opening captured everyone’s attention. Quickly, he hopped off the counter to greet Lukas—just after signaling the others to disperse, as if they never had a conversation that would arise Lukas’ notice.

“Heya, ‘Norge!” he loudly welcomed, rushing over to his friend who rolled their eyes.

“Yes, hello, Mathias,” he sardonically returned the salutation. A grunt escaped him as he heaved a large book bag over his shoulder and headed towards the stairs.

“Uh, you need any help there? That bag’s lookin’ really heavy,” he suggested while beginning to lift the bag’s strap from Lukas’ shoulder. The man swiftly shrugged his hand away.

“ _Nope_ , don’t need it,” he responded, leaping up the stairs and disappearing towards the direction of his room.

Mathias raised a brow at his friend’s actions, wanting to question what was so secretive in the sack. Shaking his head, he asked, “Well, do ya have other things in the car ya want me to carry in?”

“You can get the groceries out before they get too warm,” Lukas shouted, loud enough for Mathias to hear. “Tell ‘Em I got more Yoggi®.”

“As you wish, my princess!” he laughed, performing a dramatic bow before going outside. Lukas stole a glance at his actions just as he reached the top of the stairs, and shook his head. As soon as he opened the door to his bedroom, he tossed the bag on his bed, which landed soundlessly on the soft duvet. His eyes precariously gazed over them, wondering if he had actually seen them float down on the cushiony surface. Shrugging, he stepped towards the bed and waved at the door to close it.

“Interesting books…” he muttered, pulling the large, heavy hardbacks out from the worn sack. He opened one, which looked very well-tended-to for an ancient spell-book, and sharply snapped his fingers to command the yellowed pages to flip to the section he had been previously skimming over. The top of the left sheet read in bold letters: _Delere famam_ , with a smaller text below it listing any spell a magician could imagine summoning relating to the headline. A thin finger traced along each word, now translated back to Latin since Lukas left the library, to change it once again to his native language. There was one counter spell on this page he was so caught up in reading…

“ _Revelatio_ ,” his voice whispered, seemingly on its own accord. His mind took little notice of it, for he was too busy concentrating on what the book told of the spell.

It was the only one that seemed to be able to diminish the affects of _Contra affectionem_. There weren’t many that appeared willing enough to attempt to ward off such a spirit-like form of magic. _Contra affectionem_ had a mind of its own with a malign desire to deceive. It was mysteriously ambiguous in its doings, but convincing when it had learned the selfish nature of humans. It would find it very easy to fool any other spell in the making. However, the noble tranquility of _Revelatio_ looked promising to Lukas.

However, it wasn’t an easy spell to call upon. It required too much experience within the magic field of _Magus Senex_ for Lukas to handle—at least, only for now. The spell simply asked for a firm belief in its strength, that it would have enough power to return virtue in its natural state. Now, although any wizard could search for their own confidence without difficulty, there was a chaotic balance one teetered between sober judgement and arrogance—or false poise. There had to be peace found within oneself before anything. Lukas blowed air through his nostrils. Off to practice.

Suddenly, his eyes caught something. It was almost inconspicuous, easy to miss while scanning the spell’s description. His heart sank to his stomach as he read over them.

Of course. How could have this been so easy?

There was a costly price to pay once the spell had finished what needed to be fixed. He couldn’t bring himself to realize it. His mouth hung agape, heart held still. He couldn’t move. 

It wasn’t until a few moments was he able to move his weakened hands to close the book and try to bring his conscience to reality. How could he have been so stupid?

Yet, he snapped his fingers and closed his eyes, composing a clear image of his spell room. That was all his mind could create. Then, his eyes opened to find himself standing in front of the wooden table, before the cluttered, yet organized mess of magic-paraphernalia in front of him.

The last time he had been here was since he had called upon _Contra affectionem_. However, that didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.

** • • • ∞ • • • **

“Is Lukas hiding in his spell room?”

Emil peeked up from the book he had been reading for the past few hours, regarding Mathias. He shrugged off the thought that he didn’t knock to announce his presence, though it certainly wasn’t needed. “Most likely,” he responded, attention returning to the story. The sound of his footsteps creaked across the wooden floor of the teen’s bedroom and he heard Mathias’ weight sink onto his bed. Emil slowly closed his book with a raised brow before asking, “…May I help you?”

“Hm? Nah,” Mathias shook his head, grinning. He collapsed himself on Emil’s bed while exaggeratedly groaning, “Whelp, finally finished that stinkin’ project!” 

“Oh, the overly-innovative sling-shot?”

“Mm-hm, took forever ta do,” he said, scooting his head up to the bed’s pillow and swinging his legs up on to the mattress. He barely heard Emil sarcastically mumbling about his creation’s usefulness.

Emil frowned at the gesture. “Well, don’t wipe your sweaty face all over my bed! I sleep on that.”

“Well, that just sucks, doesn’t it?” the Dane cackled, rolling himself into the top blanket so it wrapped around him. 

“God, dammit, Mathias!” he exclaimed, frustrated, yet couldn’t help letting out a light-hearted laugh as he stood up to pry the grown man out of his bed. Just as he was on barely hanging off the edge of the bed, Mathias leaned his torso to grip his arms around Emil’s shoulders, dragging him straight to the floor with his own body hitting the wood first.

“Man down! Man down!” he guffawed at Emil’s laughter turning into nothing but a mess of snorting, bunching his knuckles together in a fist to rub the boy’s hair into a knotted tangle. As Emil attempted to swat his hand away, he retreated, still chuckling as he did so. After awhile, he finally drew in a deep breath, a bright smile still set on his features. “Hey.”

Emil let in a sigh to ease his own laughter. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna be out tonight, alright? Alfred’s here with Arthur, and he and Gilbert decided to meet up at that bar a few blocks away with me.” he sat up, pulling his legs up so they were bent as he leaned back, resting his weight on his palms. “We haven’t been able to do that since the last few times he came over, ya know? Thought it would be nice.”

“Okay,” Emil nodded slowly, as if he were expecting him to elaborate.

“All I ask is, watch over Lukas for the night. Don’t worry, I’ll be back, but heck knows when with us idiots,” he chortled, but turned to face Emil, looking at him straight in the eye, suddenly serious. “Please.”

The boy was silent for a moment. “Well, be careful.”

“Ah, I will. Don’t worry about me, broski!” he beamed, standing up to help Emil on to his feet. Straightening out his shirt, he sighed, “But, really, keep an eye on your big brother. We both know something’s terrible gone up with him. God knows what, probably good reason that only He knows, too.”

Emil kept his gaze down on the floor, suddenly quiet. His voice low, he mumbled, “I wish there was a way we could help…”

Just as he felt a hot teardrop trickle down his cheek, he felt Mathias’ arms tightly wrapping around him in a warm embrace. “Hey. It’s all gonna be okay,” the Dane murmured, gently patting Emil’s back. “Really, I mean it. Lukas will be able to fix what’s going on.” he spoke softly, reassuringly, yet he could feel more wet tears seethe into his chest through his shirt. As he let go, he looked right at Emil, saying, “You know, there is no way we can help, unfortunately. And that really hurts us—me and you especially—,but there’s one thing I’ll bet on.”

“What’s that?” the teenager asked, wiping his nose with his wrist, avoiding eye contact. 

“You can.”

Sniffling shakily, Emil furrowed his brows at the answer, yet Mathias could have sworn he saw him freeze at his words. “… _Me?_ You… you think _I_ can help?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course. You’re his brother. He loves you and trusts you the most. You’ve been through a lot together, and with that in mind, of course you can help him,” releasing his hold, he continued, “So, I expect ya to take care of him, looking at the state he’s in. I know you can do it.”

Looking up at the Dane, he weakly smiled. Mathias always had a contagious grin on his face, it had a genuine feeling of joy in it. Often, it was too loud for Emil to bear, but this one was peaceful for once. Quiet. It was a dulcet yellow, soft and pleasant. There were flecks of blue and green, unmoving in their tranquility.

But, he couldn’t push away that bitter melancholy that crept into his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And y'all haven't seen the end of it! This is, like, 99.9% dialogue. Besides the point, it's setting sail into foreign territory from here on out. Also, you know what's a really good way to help edit things on the computer? Just put whatever part you need to fix in bright red Comic Sans! Works like a charm! Anyway, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

It must have been almost midnight by the time Lukas had finally come downstairs. He didn’t care to check the clock in his room since he had started his vigorous practicing, but he had been unusually aloof lately, nonetheless. Hopefully, he thought, that wouldn’t interfere with any of his magic. He desperately needed all the preparation he could get to diminish the spell. 

As the thin man quietly stepped down, mind fogged with utter fatigue, he took note of how eerily quiet the house was. His knees bent to a crouch and he silently scanned the room below him to look for trouble. The house was far more silent than it was supposed to be, more so than what he liked. He quietly knelt down another step for a better view.

There was a faint creaking noise just out of sight. 

His heart dropped to his stomach, eyes widening. He felt like a prey in hiding, searching for the danger awaiting it. At least, he thought he was hiding. There was no danger to be seen, as if it were an illusion. One that could deceive when it truly was present. The predator was lurking about, but he didn’t know where. He didn’t know when.

The noise grew just slightly louder, and he felt his chest beating more and more quickly by the second, heart pleading incessantly. Just as he raised a hand to soundlessly command a spell, the old grandfather clock struck once for the new hour. 

Lukas released the tight hold on his breath, as if he had kept it still for hours. Taking in another to settle his nerves, he closed his eyes and stood up, continuing down and heading to the living room.

He had barely missed his younger brother sitting in the same chair as usual, reading a book. A quick glance at its title caused a small smile to form on his lips. He took his own seat across from him. 

Before speaking, he allowed the peaceful silence to come into the atmosphere, gently crackling away the unsteady anxiety that had resided in the home. He had hoped for it to come back, for things to be normal again. But, it never returned. 

“How’s the book?” he asked, causing Emil to slightly jump at his voice. His brother transfixed his attention to him before marking the page. 

“Well, I’m finally past the part I’ve kept stopping at, and it’s looking good so far. A bit moody, but not bad.” 

“That’s… good.”

A mental image of the moment Emil had mentioned from the book faded in and out of his mind. What Mathias had said was true, how he knew the story well—by now, he had felt as though he had written every word, breathed every meaning of every sentence, lived with the characters and their home. It tickled him that now his own brother, practically the last of what he had, was now reading the very same pages. Perhaps he would enjoy the story, as much as he did, not just understanding the complexity of conflict, but living with it in his heart.

Funny how he deemed Emil to be the last of what remained before him. What had he lost? Surely it can be found again.

He had lost his family. His home was gone. The tranquil silence, vanished. Hope for anything to return to him had disappeared.

Yet, there was Emil, despite it all. The only one stayed the same, the only one who seemed to have fought along beside him. _Why was that?_ he wondered. They had been through so much in the past, long before he had discovered his magical abilities. Emil was like a crutch for him, preventing him from falling apart. He had always hoped for his brother to acquire the same talents he had—utterly ecstatic and eluded by the idea that they would have something miraculously beautiful to share as brothers—, but there came nothing. Not even was he able to capture a glimpse of a mythical creature, a mirage in the corners of every eye that could not _understand_ magic. He loved him despite his wish. There was so much more to his younger brother.

And, of course, Mathias had been so caring for the both of them. He was the light Lukas needed, an offering hand. He gave him and Emil a new family, a better one. 

A sickening feeling came over him as soon as he pictured that brilliant smile.

Mathias wouldn’t stay forever.

A voice, his own, made itself clear in his mind: he could have sworn he had spoken it aloud. _Why? Why can’t he stay?_

 _He is already gone,_ another voice answered, not his own. He didn’t know what it could have possibly belonged to, yet he had a terrible feeling of what it was. It was the malignant breeze that passed through, its whisper spoke of deathly words. The being of insanity he had created.

Lukas’ arms were cold. His breath was stolen away. Reality was slipping away from the sweaty palms of his hands. His vision was contorting itself, creating a vertigo trance amongst his senses.

Just as he was about to be swept into the current of panic once again, someone called out to him.

“Hey, Lukas.”

All the anxiety was gone. His eyes slowly gazed up to Emil. “…Hm?”

His brother seemed to take no notice of the ominous perturbation in the room whatsoever. “Um, what happened in your spell room?”

He looked at Emil incredulously—he wasn’t one to ask such questions to his older brother. Nevertheless, he decided to play along. “Arthur and Vladimir wanted me to try this new type of magic. I’ve just been… focused on it lately.”

“Okay,” Emil muttered, raising a brow, “but there’s just been… I dunno, something a bit, uh, different—I guess? W-Well, I mean…”

Now it was Lukas’ turn to share a confused look. Sure, Emil has always found himself awkward when trying to voice his thoughts, but there something strange about what he was wanting to convey. He heard him sigh before continuing.

“Wh-What I’m trying to say is that… is that everything seems so different now. You know about it.”

The last statement shot a sharp pang of guilt through Lukas’ chest. His hand tightened itself into a balled fist, digging its nails into his palm. _How could have I been so selfish?_ he winced at his thoughts, at Emil. 

Silence was only his answer. He couldn’t look at his brother. _Pathetic._

“…Lukas? Is everything alright?” he could hear the anxiety growing in his brother’s tremulous voice despite it attempting to sound soft, calming.

There was a surge of anger shooting through his body, more prominent and insidious than the unpredictable adrenaline that once flowed through his veins. A stinging flame burned in his chest, searing his nerves and setting fire to a sudden impulse. One glance for not even a second into Emil’s eyes sent his mind into a blind rage, a desire to destroy all of what he had and start over. There was no way to try again. He could only begin anew. None of this mattered. 

He felt the need to rip himself apart, bit by bit, tear through his chest and crack open his ribs, seize his throbbing heart and squeeze it until could no longer fight. He wanted to take his hands, feel them crawling in the caverns of his mouth to find a perfect grasp to split his jaw open, deafening screams overfilling his senses and he was intoxicated with dizzying wrath, drowning helplessly in a sea of madness. His nails would scratch open fields of his own skin, mutilating it, watching splurges of crimson blood sputtering out as he mindlessly cleaved to the bone. Every digit torn off, all joints dismantled. His broken body mangled in a mess that his mind had been stuck in for what seemed like eternity. 

A picture of his body lay lifelessly, a result of his creation’s destruction. A piece of him. This, all of what he had done wrong, was entirely for him to blame. He would never be able to seek redemption. He was far too lost in his insanity.

But, he could never lose himself, not to Emil. Not ever to the one person he cared for the most. “I’m sorry, Emil,” his voice crackled easily under the immense amount of tempting, hellbent fury. His nails dug deeper into his pale skin, but all he could feel was tingling numbness. His voice was shrinking and trembling. “I’m so, so sorry…” 

“Hey, ah, no! It’s okay, Lukas, really. I promise. I just… it’s all just…” his younger brother paused for a moment, as if taking in Lukas’ response. He quickly stepped over to sit next to the couch arm adjacent to Lukas’ seat. “U-Um, what are you sorry about, exactly?” 

Without thinking, Emil gently grabbed at Lukas’ closest hand. It was freezing cold and sweaty. Within an instant, he could feel his brother’s trembling slow to a calm stillness. There was guilt plaguing Lukas’ heart. He had been hiding so much from him, from everyone. “Big brother,” he said, voice firm, yet soft, “you can tell me what’s wrong. Everything’s okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to.”

Just his brother’s offering of tranquility gently took Lukas’ mind, stillness gripped his being at once. He couldn’t bear to have them know what he surfaced to the world, unknowingly signing away an invisible contract to take the lives of his family.

The spell had come alive. It wasn’t a being underneath orders. Lukas knew that. Why did he summon the damn thing, despite knowing every beseeming compromise it would steal from the dictating fingers of a magician? 

Curiosity. He told himself that. He didn’t know why. Why not? Why not see what would happen?

He had been a complete idiot for not considering he consequences. His family was at risk by the cost of his own selfishness. 

Yet, it wasn’t something he would normally do. Emil wouldn’t understand anything. Not the magic, not the reason for Lukas summoning a dangerous spell, not his own older brother being selfish, nothing. Why tell him? Would he be happier if he did not know? Surely. How could he help if he knew? It was all pointless. Start over.

Emil’s quiet, dejected sigh pierced Lukas’ thoughts. Guilt stabbed his chest. Finally, Lukas spoke up, “Emil, you wouldn’t understand.”

Emil’s light eyes stared blankly at him, half-listening, mostly thinking. 

“You would only understand how much I want to tell you.”

A sharp pang of frustration pounded against his head. Then, it disappeared as quickly as it came. That frustration wasn’t his own.

“Lukas, I’m just as lost as you are. We all are. But, we want to help. We… We love you so mu—“

The sound of the front door smashing closed made the desolate house shake in sudden fear. Both jumped at hearing such a jarring explosion, panic grasping at their throats, waiting. Approaching footsteps plodded loudly across the wooden floor towards the living room. The intruder’s paws seemed to grope loudly in the dim lighting seeking its hunger. Its satiation. Its claws stained with and cracked with poison, warm blood trickling down sharp teeth waiting eagerly behind snarling lips. Eyes seething white in the midst of madness. 

Lukas and Emil stared incredulously at Mathias. He had turned into a predator intoxicated with insanity. A low, bellowing grumble released from his grimace.

“What the _hell_ are you two doing up at this hour?” he snarled.

No immediate answer came, much to the dismay of his apparent impatience. The ones before him sat utterly petrified at his sound of mind. All would have been silent from fiery tensity pinching the world into stillness, but the grandfather clock’s quarter chime was a dreadful reminder that this was reality. The pendulum’s ticking lull sent throbbing sparks of fear through Lukas’ veins each passing second. 

Mathias’ voice boomed over the loud silence. “What’s gotten into you two?! I asked a _fucking_ simple question, didn’t I?!”

It took a moment to realize for Lukas that his brother was trembling at this unbelievable rage. His mind was on the verge of seeping into detachment from the present, snipping away from each thread to reality that it now barely held fast to.

“ _ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!_ ”

Emil quickly snapped himself together to form a coherent answer. “We… We were waiting for you. It’s past one. You said you’d be back by eleven-thirty.”

“And?” Mathias hissed, his voice hot and sputtering fire. “Since _when_ did you ever give two shits about anyone besides yourself? I’m the one who’s stuck constantly worrying about this damn family! Why can’t I do my own thing for once?!” 

Emil could only stare at Mathias dumbly, in utter awe. He didn’t understand what had gotten into the Dane. 

He could feel Lukas trembling and crumbling in on himself, faint whimpers escaping the cracks of fading conscience. His brother was losing himself, and so was Mathias. What was happening?

The answer suddenly clicked to him, like a silent voice had whispered it to him. His mind had not searched for it. Was this what Lukas was so worried about?

Mathias stomped forward, fury steaming as his fiery eyes glared through the brothers. His fists were clenched and shaking in a trance of unending, relentless rage. He opened his mouth once more after biting down a horrendous growl, “How fucking disgusting. To think that you two pigs even deserved all that I’ve ever done for you. Do I always have to be there for you and forget about myself? I’ve asked for nothing all along, but all you can ever give me is ungratefulness.”

Emil was frozen on the spot, numb from the hateful venom dripping from every syllable from Mathias’ burning lips. This couldn’t be true. None of this had to be real. 

Yet, if that were the case, what was causing all of this? Did this have to do with Tino, as well? That had to be so, it was the only way. Lukas had not been willing to talk about that either, and he had not mentioned much of anything about his magic the past few weeks since that particular incident. There was no possible way that these weren’t connected, even in the lovely of ways. He had been reaching out to Arthur and Vladimir often since then, he had been locked up in assuringly his spell room and seldom came down for meals with Mathias and Emil. 

It was all beginning to come together. Emil suddenly didn’t feel so petrified any longer.

No, far from it. His heart had been racing. A cold droplet of sweat slid down his temple. His breathing was short and frosted with fear. When did he feel like this? Was this was Lukas had been facing this past month? He could barely stand it, his life was on the brink to flickering into nothingness, his skull was being apart, the pounding against his ribs spent beyond what little energy he had left, he wouldn’t make it. He couldn’t possibly live for these few seconds.

His vision was blurring, shaking. There was shouting, hatred. Anger and fire. Red surrounded his vision; the flares of the sun spewing flames all around him, and it was too hot to breathe. He saw a figure moving closer to him, impatience overcoming it. He flinched away and closed his eyes shut.

Then, it was quiet. Dark. Emil opened his eyes. 

He was in Lukas’ room. It was too pitch-black to make out the state of it, but it didn’t seem cluttered and in a horrible mess unlike he had expected since things have changed. He took a long, deep inhale in through his nostrils and slowly let it out. A small smile crept its way quietly onto his lips. The sweet, familiar scent of cologne and baking invaded his sense. At least this part hadn’t changed at all.  
A gentle rustling sound reached his ears off by the far corner of the room, as if someone was moving around in their bed.

“Hello?” he called out, figuring it was Lukas, anyway.

“Hmm?” a small hum was his fatigued answer, resembling the smooth, quiet voice of his older brother. He sighed in relief.

He didn’t remember walking into his brother’s room at all, nor when Lukas disappeared to escape the world by slumber, but that didn’t matter. He was safe. Lukas was safe. 

Tapping in his chin pensively for a moment, he stepped around to blindly search for Lukas’ large bean bag. He thought it better to spend the night with him, for his brother’s sake and for himself. The night had been an abruptly rough one. 

However, even after having long settled in the soft chair and found a comfortable position to lull himself to sleep, nothing happened. He lied wide awake. 

It had been hours. The house was silent, he was in the familiar comfort and safety of his brother’s vicinity. Why couldn’t he sleep?

His mind kept reeling back to Mathias. That wasn’t real, he told himself repeatedly. Mathias had always been by the family’s side. He was the link between him, Lukas, Emil, Berwald, and Tino. Had it not been for him, Emil and Lukas probably would have never made it out happy. He couldn’t imagine a good life full of joy without Mathias, barely even a second. 

He gave up his time for studies in college to lift up and support Lukas who was barely surviving to care of young Emil. He even took up a job with Lukas to financially support the two, and invited Berwald, his half-brother, to offer a helping hand whenever he was able. He was so understanding, so forgiving. Emil had no idea what he and Lukas had done for his mercy.

They had done nothing for him in the end. Mathias’ work was all for supporting the two helpless, hopeless couple who were but a lost cause. He had asked for nothing. 

But, those words had to be anything but real. That wasn’t Mathias. If those words were the last things to Emil’s name, then by God would he stick to them with all his might and heart. He knew this family was anything but an accident. It would not fall apart, not under his watch.He would do anything to keep it from deteriorating.

He closed his eyes, but sleep had not taken him away. 

Perhaps that was because the ceaseless shuffling of furniture and faintly furious steps downstairs did everything in their will to keep him awake as a final warning for the nightmare to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, bitch. Thought you saw the last of me?  
> Sorry, guys, it's been awhile, I know. I didn't give up on this, it's been on my mind for like two years, but by God, is it hard to get frickin motivated. And, like, isn't this fandom pretty dead? Oh, well. I'll be sticking around.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any and all comments and kudos are well-appreciated. 
> 
> Tumblr: [here](https://minnie-mochi.tumblr.com)


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